


Professionals

by tracyenthusiast



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: F/M, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-27 04:03:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16695079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tracyenthusiast/pseuds/tracyenthusiast
Summary: It wasn’t love. It was a dark, all-consuming lust. He wanted to see that ladylike decorum seep from her pores like sweat as she lost her inhibitions.





	Professionals

**Author's Note:**

> Title: Professionals  
> Fandom: Thunderbirds (original series)  
> Pairing: Scott/Penelope  
> Warning: M - contains sex  
> Author: Hey. My name’s Angelina. I’m an adult now, and I write adult things.

He fingered the condensation on the glass of whiskey – neat – as he looked out on the sun setting over the island. It was times like these that he appreciated the private decks on each of their rooms, giving him the ability to reminisce in silence.

**

Thunderbird One had taken a beating during a rescue in London, and he had limped his craft to Creighton-Ward Manor to await Brains’ arrival the next morning. She never would have made it back to the island in the state that she was in. Despite his concern for his ‘bird, Scott never said no to a night off duty.

Especially with Lady Penelope.

Dinner had been delicious, and the wine had flowed freely. Penelope had an impressive collection of all of the best vintages. Scott didn’t know much about wine, but he enjoyed sharing a bottle or two with her.

Night had settled around the manor. It was as quiet here as it was on the island. They sat together in the drawing room, Scott filling her in on a few of his most recent adventures.

Parker poked his head in. Lady Penelope stood to pour the last of the wine.

“D’hyou require h’anything h’else, m’lady?”

“No, Parker. Thank you.” She turned her charming smile on her driver. “Goodnight.”

Parker nodded. “G’night, m’lady, Mr. Tracy.”

“Goodnight, Parker.” Scott picked up his glass.

The door closed. Penelope sat down again, this time beside him on the settee. She took a long sip of wine, her eyes sparkling with just the right amount of inebriation. She crossed her legs at the ankle beneath the long black dress she had chosen for dinner. Scott tried to focus on his wine and not the movement of her legs.

The sexual tension between them had been building for years. Penelope was friendlier with Scott than his brothers. It was possibly because he was the oldest, though he never really questioned why. He liked it, whatever the reason. They flirted at her lavish parties, getting closer to each other than was truly necessary, fingers brushing arms and backs and gazes held for just a split second longer than needed. As the nights wore on she would eventually pull away as if worried that too much would push them to the point of no return.

“That must have been a harrowing experience for Gordon.”

Scott blinked, having been staring hard into the glass of wine. He raised it to his lips and had a small sip. “Yes, I think it was. For me, too.”

Penelope nodded. “I know how difficult it is for you to send the boys into the unknown.” There was a pause before she put her hand on his leg, offering what he initially thought was reassurance.

For a moment neither of them said anything. Their eyes met, still holding their glasses. Penelope removed her hand and reached out for his wine, putting it down on the coffee table. She placed hers next to it.

“Penelope…”

“Scott.” She turned back to look at him.

Suddenly his wine-stained lips were on hers. Penelope’s hesitation lasted only a split second before his arms slid around her, drawing her closer, feeling the satiny material of her dress under his palms.

He had imagined it countless times, but Lady Penelope straddling him on the couch in her living room was better than any of the scenarios he had seen in his head. Her dress was hitched up, puddling on the cushions on either side of him.

His hand found its way under the dress, feeling smooth skin and taut muscle as he grazed up her thigh. Her skin burned under his hand. The slight stumble in her rhythmic breathing told him he was on the right track, fingers glancing over lace as hers began unbuttoning his shirt.

His watch beeped.

Penelope instantly pulled back, as if breaking out of a reverie. The exposed skin on his chest suddenly felt cool as the space between them widened.

“Penny,” he rasped, a dying man thirsting after a drink.

She looked down at his watch as she pushed herself gracefully off the couch, the delicate folds of her dress falling back around her legs, giving him just a glimpse of the skin his hands had been exploring. For a moment she said nothing, then: “This would have been a mistake, Scott.” He could see the sheen of sweat on her décolletage and desperation stirred inside him. “We are professionals.”

“I -“ His watch beeped again as she bent to collect the two glasses.

“Answer it.” Penelope left the room.

Scott let his breath out slowly as the door closed behind her, trying to calm his thundering heartbeat before he answered his father’s call.

He raised the watch and pressed the button. “Dad.”

“Good evening Scott.” Jeff’s face appeared on the screen. “I was calling to let you know that Brains and Tin-Tin have just left. They should be with you by mid-morning tomorrow.”

Scott tried not to let his frustration at the interruption show. It wasn’t an emergency. No one was in danger. “That’s great, thanks Dad.”

“And Scott?”

“Yes?”

“That shade of lipstick doesn’t suit you.” Jeff attempted lightheartedness as he closed the connection. He had seen the two of them together and it had always worried him. Distraction lead to mistakes, and mistakes in this business lead to the loss of life.

It was a warning, and Scott knew it.

**

Four months later and Scott found himself back at Creighton-Ward Manor for New Years’ Eve with some of Penelope’s most glamorous friends. He and Gordon had the holiday off duty this year and Penelope always took it upon herself to throw one of England’s most exclusive parties. What would an upper class gathering be without a pair of heirs to a billion dollar aerospace fortune?

His previous visit had ended quickly. Penelope had had a meeting the following morning and had not been in the house when he awoke. Scott had gulped down breakfast as he watched the Tiger Moth land in the expansive yard, hurrying outside to greet Brains and Tin-Tin. It had only taken a few hours to fix Thunderbird One, which had been all they’d had as a train crash in India had sent all three of them off in the big silver jet, leaving the little Tiger Moth at Penelope’s until a future date when someone could return to pick it up.

Scott noticed that Penelope was keeping her distance that evening. It allowed him a stunning, full-length view of the lithe body wrapped like a present in shimmering gold. There was no back on her dress, and the deep V of bare skin directed his eyes down to those legs again.

Gordon sidled up beside Scott, turning to see what he was looking at. He smirked to himself. Scott barely registered his presence before Gordon was swept away by a cherry-lipped brunette who was already a little unsteady on her Louboutins.

Ever the attentive host, Penelope excused herself to select another bottle of wine from her cellar. Scott drained the last of his beer and followed her down the stairs, a few paces behind. 

Plates of appetizers and hired wait staff flittered around like bees in a hive in the bright kitchen. He placed his empty beer bottle on the counter as Penelope disappeared into the cellar at the other end of the room. Scott caught the door before it closed.

He started down the cellar stairs, eyes adjusting to the dim light. Penelope was at the bottom, reading the label of a dark bottle. She glanced up, hearing his footsteps.

“Scott?” She placed the bottle back in its place and selected the one beside it instead.

He crossed the room as she put the bottle on the little table in the middle of the cellar and picked up another. She turned to him, her eyes almost level with his in the dark.

Scott took the bottle from her and put it beside the other one, his forward movement pushing her backwards. He closed the remaining distance between them and caught her lips hungrily with his, pressing Penelope and that dress into the table top.

This time she pushed him away, a firm but gentle hand on his chest.

Penelope looked up at him as he attempted to hide his dismay. She slowly removed her hand. “I know better than to make decisions I may regret when I have had too much to drink.”

“You look fine to me,” he argued half-heartedly, knowing that once she had made a decision that Penelope was as stubborn as Alan.

“Scott.” She breathed softly, not moving away from him but not allowing him any closer. “We are professionals.”

Scott ran a hand through his hair and lowered his gaze. Had he been looking, he would have seen the affection she had for him cross her beautiful face. Penelope quickly rearranged her expression as he looked up again.

“We are professionals,” He repeated.

She picked up the two bottles of wine and left him alone in the cellar.

**

A year passed. Scott and Penelope crossed paths frequently, but he purposely avoided situations where he may need to spend the night down the hall from her bedroom. Penelope was unattainable; his need for her was killing him.

It wasn’t love. It was a dark, all-consuming lust. He had wanted to see that ladylike decorum seep from her pores like sweat as she lost her inhibitions.

After a particularly gruelling mission involving an active volcano and multiple casualties, Penelope and Parker were on their way to the island for an in-person debrief with Jeff and his sons. Scott was wound up like a spring, tension and desire tightening his chest in equal measure as he settled on the couch beside Virgil.

FAB 1 appeared on the horizon, a pink streak winging its way towards them.

The debrief was exhausting. Everyone had their own idea about what could have been done better. As mobile control, Scott had been the only one with a full picture of every moment of the rescue. He found himself constantly caught between defending the actions of one of his brothers and berating another one. They hadn’t even begun to talk about Scott’s last-minute dive into the action to save the hikers in danger on the edge of the volcano.

The sun was setting by the time the residents of Tracy Island began to retire to their room. Dinner had grown cold on their plates as the heated discussion had continued.

Finally Jeff ended the meeting, vowing to finish the conversation once everyone had had a chance to sleep on it. The strain between the brothers was like static electricity, slowly dissipating as they each returned to their corners to catch up on the rest they’d missed the night before.

Penelope and Scott were the only ones that remained. Scott stood to leave.

“You put yourself in real danger today, Scott,” Penelope said, rising from her spot in the chair beside Jeff’s desk.

“I did what I had to do, Penelope.” She had not seen or heard what he had. He rubbed his neck. “It was a calculated risk.”

“It happened too fast to be calculated,” she argued. “You were reckless.”

“I saved three people who may have burned to death on that volcano,” Scott fired back, crossing his arms. “Thunderbird One was the only chance they had.”

She stepped closer, collected but haughty, only a few feet from him now. “You defied orders.”

“I saw an opportunity and I took it.”

Her concern coursed through her like the wine on New Years’ Eve, but Penelope was dead sober this time. Her vantage point during the rescue had given her the clearest view of his actions. There had been just enough space for FAB 1 on the nearby hillside while the rest of the action was coordinated on the ground. “You could have been killed.”

Scott said nothing.

Penelope kissed him.

This time it was Scott who hesitated; he was sure she was going to pull away at any moment. She didn’t.

He stepped forward and Penelope took a staggered step backwards, her lower back coming into contact with Virgil’s prized piano. Scott’s lips became more insistent, their breathing laboured as they clung to each other. He was acutely aware of the expanse of glass around them, knowing at any moment that one of his brothers could walk into the lounge from the deck or hallway.

Scott pushed her skirt up over her hips, growling her name against her lips as he found nothing underneath. Her hands undid his belt and unzipped his jeans, grasping at him with a desperation he’d never seen displayed by Her Ladyship. Her hips bucked as he thrust her hard into the piano, a soft whimper humming against his mouth as her legs curled around his waist.

Grateful for the cover over the keys, Scott took the opportunity to kiss his way down her neck and as low as he could against the neckline of her blouse. He greedily sucked in a long breath of sweat and perfume. Bracing herself against the piano, Penelope’s encouraging murmurs spurred him on.

A sound deep inside Tracy Island startled them. Scott opened his eyes, staring almost in disbelief at the sight before him. Lady Penelope, the ends of her hair strewn over the top of the piano, skin glowing in the orange sunset. 

It took every ounce of willpower for Scott to pull back, gently supporting her legs and hips as he lowered her to the floor. The sound came again, closer now. Someone was in the kitchen.

Penelope smoothed her skirt. She knew they couldn’t be seen going to the same room but they'd passed that point she had been so careful to avoid. She wasn't going to let it end now. “Ten minutes,” She breathed, quickly and soundlessly slipping away into the darkness of the hallway.

His hands faltered as he did up his jeans again, straining to hide his blatant dissatisfaction. 

A second later, Scott was sure Gordon could see his heart hammering in his chest as he appeared in the doorway holding a cookie.

“You okay, Scott?”

It was the longest ten minutes of Scott’s life.

**

Scott finished the last sip of his whiskey and stood up from his chair. The island was dark now. He went back into his room, shutting the glass door behind him.

His watch beeped.

Pressing the button, Scott saw Penelope’s face flash in the screen. “Good evening, Scott.”

“Penelope.”

“I wanted to ask Brains a few questions about the new electronics in FAB 1 but he appears to be asleep. Perhaps you could help me?”

“Of course.”

They were professionals.


End file.
